


Prince Hamid's Tale of Tales

by pixieferry



Series: Prince Hamid [5]
Category: Desire & Decorum (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arabian Nights Fusion, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Historical References, Jealousy, Regency Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 04:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18403100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixieferry/pseuds/pixieferry
Summary: You are cordially invited to the Ottoman nuptial ceremony of Prince Hamid and Countess Liana (MC). Come see the wonders of Topkapi Palace. Beware the Ifrit.* Takes place after they are married in England. Smut is in chapter 1, 4 and 6. I try to be respectful but inaccuracies will happen since I am not a historian or Turkish, though I am a Muslim. I do welcome constructive criticisms and (polite) corrections.





	1. al-Zuhara

“That’s the Pleiades, isn’t it?” Liana pointed to a cluster of stars. “The Seven Sisters. It reminds you of your family.”

“You remember,” Prince Hamid nodded, beaming.

How could she possibly forget? It was the first time she laid in his arms underneath a blanket of stars. The first time she felt at home since leaving Grovershire. “I remember every story.” She returned his smile. “You must be excited to see your homeland.”

“This time even more so.” His eyes sparkled and it made her think of a Turkish word he had taught her:  _Yakamoz_. The moonlight reflecting on water. “Because now, I get to make that journey with you.”

“How could I resist going on an adventure with you? Also it wouldn’t be much of a wedding if the bride wasn’t there, would it?” She teased.

He smiled briefly before he turned a wistful gaze towards the sky. “Thank you. A ceremony over there means everything to my mother.”

“I look forward to hearing more stories of you,” she added, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I want to know who was Prince Hamid of Constantinople before he was Prince Hamid, an ambassador in London.”

Her head sprang back up when he didn’t answer.

“I hope you will like what you find.” He looked about self-consciously and added after a pause, “And I hope you will remember there will be situations where you’ll be served what doesn’t agree with your palate, whether it’s food, custom, religion. I pray you can keep an open mind.”

“Of course.” She stroked his cheek and made a face. “However, I’m still on the fence about this beard you’re growing.”

“You know I have to grow it back or my own mother wouldn’t accept me!” He grabbed her hand and kissed it, laughing as she squirmed from the foreign sensation of the coarse hairs on her skin. “Give it time, it will soften later.”

“We still have a long journey ahead of us. Tell me a story about…” Liana’s fingers twirled in the air before landing on the most dazzling star, “that one.” Her hand came back down and brushed against his before it claimed a spot next to him on the railing.

“The morning and evening star, _al-Zuhara_ , meaning the brilliant one.” Prince Hamid said. “She is called the wandering star, because her movement shifts in the morning and evening. She has an ancient name, almost lost in time,  _al-Uzza_. Pre-Islamic, when polytheism was widely practiced. Would you like to hear her story?”

Liana nodded. Hamid cleared his throat and began.

“Once upon a time, there were three goddesses known as The Cranes. They were Manat, Al-Lat, and the Mightiest One, Al-Uzza. 

“The prophet was tasked to end the worship of these false idols. And so their temples were destroyed until only one remained; Al-Uzza. The commander of his army found a temple. He smashed the idol and returned to the prophet with the news. 

“'Did you see something unusual?’ The prophet asked. The commander shook his head. ‘Then you have not found it. Seek again.' 

“The commander searched city after city, crossing oceans and deserts, until he caught wind of its hidden location. He stormed the temple with his army. 

“In his path stood an unearthly creature like black smoke in the guise of a female form. She wore a  _zulfiqar_ , a curved sword, around her neck and wailed as he approached. The commander struck her down, splitting her in two with a swing of his sword, and smashed the idol. 

“He returned to the prophet, who said, ‘That was Al-Uzza. Not a deity, but an infernal  _jinn_ , an  _Ifrit_.’”

Liana clapped and cheered as he bashfully took a bow, “Is this a true story?”

“I may have embellished. I am a storyteller after all,” he winked with a mischievous smile.

“Why do you know so much?”

“Part of an Ottoman Prince’s education. I had to learn a great many subjects, such as mathematics, geography, religious studies, music…” he shrugged, and waved a hand dismissively. “The list goes on.”

“Aw, poor Prince. Nose stuck in a book all the time.”

“It wasn’t!” He protested as he playfully bumped shoulders with her. “We also learned horseback riding, archery, wrestling, sword and gun-play-”

“Well this explains your physique,” she said with an appreciative sideways glance.

Hamid laughed and pointed back to the star. “Al-Uzza was a goddess of protection and love. The Greeks connected her to their heavenly Aphrodite Urania.” He lowered his voice, leaning closer, his lips almost brushing against her ear. “You may know the star by another name; Venus.”

“Does that mean Al-Uzza is born from the seafoam of Uranus’ chopped up genitals that was flung into the ocean?” Liana quipped as she gestured to the open waters before them.

“No,” lips quirked with amusement. “However, one of her symbols is the dolphin, and so the Nabataens believed she guarded ships on ocean voyages.”

“How fortunate she is accompanying us tonight.” The ship lurched and Liana stumbled into his arms as sea spray showered upon her.  Laughter bubbled to her surface as she tasted the salt on her lips. “I hope this is a blessing. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

“Indeed.”

The intensity of his voice startled her. Her eyes searched for his, and found that glint in his eye she was getting intimately familiar with. One he didn’t bother to hide behind a bland smile anymore. Her cheeks warmed as she followed his gaze and realised her dress was damp and she was indecent.

“As much as I love showing off my beautiful wife, I’m not willing to share,” Hamid said as he calmly took off his cloak to fasten on her. She caught her breath when his nails grazed her decolletage, was it deliberate? He placed his hands back on the railing. “It’s unfortunate passenger ships don’t have private cabins.”

She pulled his cloak tighter, catching the familiar scent of _oudh_ and bergamot,  _his_  scent, mingling with the sea breeze. She shivered, but not from the cold. “What would you do otherwise?”

“Get you out of those wet clothes. Or perhaps not. It looks quite becoming on you,” he said blithely, eyes trained on the sea. “And then I’ll ravish you of course.”

“With my clothes on?” She choked.

“You’re not wearing a chastity belt or the likes,” he replied with a brazen smile, the wind playing with his dark hair. “It’s not difficult. I just have to lift up your skirts and…”

“And what?”

“What do  _you_ want me to do?” He chuckled, and gave a slight bow. “This Prince is at your command.”

She reddened. It was one of his little games, wasn’t it? He loved to shock her, make her blush with his suggestive words and double-entendre. Two can play the game.

“I want your honeyed tongue between my legs.”

“Good,” he replied unblinkingly. “Because I always crave you. I could taste your sweet lips all day and not get enough.” His eyes flicked up and down as he gave her a rakish smile. “Either one.”

She turned away, her cheeks burned even hotter. He had bested her again. Her eyes stopped, transfixed by the waters lapping against the ship, picturing his hands parting her like the sea, that smile before he went down to explore her depths. Her fingers wound tight into the soft, warm material of his cloak enveloping her.

He was not going to win this time.

“How soon before we reach Calais?” she whispered.

“Several hours at least. Then our carriage awaits.”

“In the carriage then.”

“What of it?”

“In the carriage. I want you to kiss me breathless. While your lips are on mine, I want your hands to creep up my thighs and tease me. I’m aching for your touch. Start with one finger, gently work your way to more until we get to our lodgings. And then to the bedroom. You’re right, it takes too damn long to get these wretched layers off. I can’t wait anymore. My legs will spread readily for you.

“Make good of your words, put that tongue to use. And after you have satisfied both our cravings, I want you to put your…” she ducked her head, struggling to let the word out. Blasted self inhibitions.

“Cock,” he said.

She gave a curt nod in thanks and drew a quick breath for courage. “I want your  _cock_ inside me.” A thrill snaked down her core, even as the flush spread up to her neck. She closed her eyes. “Slowly, inch by inch, your cock filling my walls. It still feels so strange. But I like it. The more I get, the more I want.”

It felt stiflingly hot in that cloak now, she was caught between longing to rip it off or wrapping it tighter so she could continue breathing him in. She chose the latter, wishing it were his hands roaming instead of hers under that cloak.

“You feel so good, I can’t get enough. I want to pull you in deeper. My hands dig into your hips. I am begging for more. Your warm breath on my skin becomes more ragged the harder you thrust in me. You slide in and out, going faster, even as I close in on you. You put your lips on mine so no one can hear me scream your name when I…”

Liana stopped, lips parted, breathing hard as she blinked. Her heart was pounding like the ocean’s roar so loudly upon her ears as a cold wave of shame doused her.

She was mortified. And frighteningly aware of her arousal; her dress was not the only thing wet. Oh God, she had gone too far.

She looked at the sky, swearing Venus must be silently laughing at her. She should throw herself overboard and into the mercy of the goddess.

This was unbecoming of a lady. Was it true, a bastard’s blood ran hot and therefore no matter how accomplished or if she dressed the part, that’s who she was? She didn’t dare look at him even as she heard him exhale, long and slow.

“I don’t think I can be as patient.” He placed his hand on hers, gently pulling her away from her distress. He pressed her hand on his chest, his heart raced like hers though his voice was low and deliberate.“What would you say if I bribe the captain into letting us use his private cabin for a bit?”

Her eyes swept his face. Her heart danced giddily when she saw the sweetest smile on his lips, his eager eyes both dark and burning like the distant stars for her.

She lowered her lashes demurely, as a lady should, before boldly meeting his gaze with a fire she didn’t know she had.

“I would say, that would be a delight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes:
> 
> I didn’t make up Al-Uzza, but I did embellish.  
> Arabia and Greece were still under Ottoman Empire rule in this period.


	2. Dionysus Danse Macabre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shall we dance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics from Hamilton - "You'll Be Back"

“Shall we dance?”

If he wasn’t already standing, Prince Hamid would have leapt to his feet at her invitation. He offered his arm and they made their way to the dance floor in St James. She was as lovely as a gilded lily in her white and gold dress, a silver tiara glittered in her dark curls.

He bowed and eagerly took her hands. They glided on the polished floor of the red and gold room as the orchestra played a soft tune.

_You say, The price of my love’s not a price that you’re willing to pay._

She was singing. He smiled with uncertainty, puzzled by the strange lyrics.

_“Why so sad?”_  she whispered, an unsettling smile on her face. She twirled and danced into the arms of another.

Someone else was in his arms now, but he paid no heed for he only had eyes for her. Hamid moved to the steps distractedly, his unease mounting as he watched her.

Who was she dancing with? Why was he singing with her?

_Remember we made an arrangement when you went away_  
_Now you’re making me mad  
_ _Remember, despite our estrangement, I’m your man_

No, it couldn’t be. He must be mistaken, a trick of the -

Selim met his eyes and laughed. Blood gurgled from his mouth, trickled from his wounds. Hamid froze, blood drained from his face as Selim’s drops fell upon her white dress. The music played faster.

_You’ll be back, soon you’ll see. You’ll remember you belong to me._

The dancers matched the pace of the jaunty tune and whirled wildly. Heedlessly they collided into and trampled him. Trance broken, he stumbled and shoved his way to reach Selim and Liana as they continued their strange duet in the eye of the storm.

_Oceans rise, empires fall!_  
_We have seen each other through it all_  
 _And when push comes to shove_  
 _I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love!_

Liana twirled back towards him, his relief short-lived when he saw the stains bloomed ever larger until she was covered in red. She beckoned him to come closer. 

… _you’re my favorite subject._   _My sweet, submissive subject._

A chill as he saw the sharp teeth that flashed in her a smile. His instincts said run, but his feet betrayed him and inched closer.

_My loyal, royal subject. Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever…_

Her gloved hands held his tight. On her head, a silver crescent and star. On her neck, a pair of wicked  _zulfiqar_. Her eyes were gleaming and alight.

On the floor, to his shock, she kissed him. Her tongue burned his lips, choked him with ashes. He frantically pushed away and fell to floor, eyes bulging as he coughed for air. She wasn’t his Liana.

_You’ll be back like before. I will fight the fight and win the war_

She twirled away into a burst of flames, her laughter rang in his ears. Her curls black smoke that framed a glowing red face. A creature of fire and smoke and death. Ifrit.

_When you’re gone, I’ll go mad. So don’t throw away this thing we had_

The Ifrit winked slyly as he scrambled to his feet. She lifted her skirts; demons burst and rushed towards him with silvery ropes and gleaming swords. A scream strangled in his throat as they plunged their swords over and over into his heart. 

_When push comes to shove, I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical footnotes:
> 
> Selim III - reform-minded Sultan of the Ottoman Empire from 1789 to 1807. He was eventually deposed and imprisoned. Selim was killed by a group of assassins by sword.  
> Her red dress, tiara and necklace - symbols of the ottoman empire flags (they had a variety)  
> Ifrit - In Islamic culture, they are usually a powerful type of jinn or identified with death-spirits.


	3. Demeter & Persephone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s meet Prince Hamid’s mother.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Anne - Turkish for “mother”. Not pronounced like the name, but in two syllables “An-ne” kinda like “un-nay”?

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” A statement, not a question. His lashes and heart fluttered as Liana pressed her lips soft and sweet on his eyelids. “You said you sleep better with me around, yet lately it isn’t so. It’s been over a month since we left London. The closer we get to your homeland, the more restless you become.”

“Hamid.” She sighed when he didn’t answer. “Please look at me.” She ran her fingers through his hair as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Tell me what’s bothering you?”

Prince Hamid took her hand and kissed her inner wrist, the sparkling notes of orange blossoms soothed and cleared his mind before he finally met her gaze. Concern was etched on that face, her warm eyes aglow  _for him_. Those eyes saw him - the man - not his labels. Not an Imperial Prince of the Ottoman Empire, not a skilled diplomat nor a foreigner to be exotified. If that light was snuffed out, what would her gaze upon him be like?

He didn’t wish to know.

He sat up from her lap and shifted to the seat opposite of her to look outside the moving carriage.

“It won’t be long now” he smiled after taking note of their location. They were still on dirt roads, but the open spaces were fewer between the structures dotting the road. Not long but too soon if he wanted to avoid her questions. “Would you like to hear a story?”

Her eyes lit up though they moved side to side, conflicted by the temptation dangled in front of her. He forced his smile to widen, a silent prayer ran in his mind as he willed her to accept. She took the bait with a nod and so he began:

“Once upon a time, in a vast land of sand and pyramids, there was a mighty King, just and kind. He was loved by many, though his heart belonged only to his Queen.

“The King had a jealous brother, who wickedly conspired to overthrow him. One day, his brother trapped him in a golden box, sealed it and threw him into a river, doomed to drift to locations far and unknown.

“His consort was not without a magic of her own. She set out in search of her love, trailing the shores and crossing an ocean until one day, she found him. He was only a shell by then, and so she returned him to his kingdom to bring back his spirit.

“Whilst she was away making preparations, his brother came and in a rage, tore the King apart and scattered his pieces throughout the land and river.

“His Queen was horrified but undeterred for her love for him was great. Once again she set forth to find him. Piece by piece, she painstakingly put him back together before finally, she brought him back to life, reborn, and stronger than ever.”

Liana clapped and Hamid exhaled as he took a bow, his smile now came easily.

“Well that was entertaining but that dark turn was a little heavy on my heart,” she said. “Thank goodness there was a happy end for the two lovers.”

He waggled his eyebrows in reply before he adopted a more serious air, “We should go through a few things before we reach the Palace. I trust you remember our discussions on court etiquette?” She nodded. “Good. Attention to detail will work to your advantage. Moving on, we will have separate apartments, yours will be in the Imperial Harem-”

She blanched.

He sighed inwardly and shifted in his seat as irritation, from his years spent as a foreigner, pricked him like a thorn.

“It’s not as depicted by the Western world. It’s not a pleasure den of debauchery. The women do not frolic around in various states of undress,” Hamid said dryly. “It’s just a private residence where all the women, royals like the Sultan’s mother and sisters to the humble odalisques and young children live. The name itself is of Arabic origin,  _Haram_ , which means forbidden. Because it is forbidden to outsiders.”

“But the fact remains many women there were bought to serve, including for sexual or reproductive purposes,” she said in a voice like silk wrapped steel. “Which brings us to the issue of slavery -”

“Yes.” He ducked his head, shamed to met her gaze, as a heaviness pressed on his shoulders. The hands on his lap turned red from the stains only he could see.

“I’m sorry.” She clasped her hands to his and rubbed it gently, as though she were wiping the spots away. “I know you face tremendous pressure over this issue.”

“Change will always face resistance. But it must be done.”

“I trust you will do the right thing,” she kissed his hands.

“Back to topic, you will be in the Harem most of the time. There’s plenty to keep you entertained while I attend to the Sultan. If the hour isn’t late,” hope crept into his voice, “I would like you to join me in my chambers.”

“I would come at any hour, be with you from dusk till dawn if you want me to.” Her shy smile turned to confusion as she added, “But I thought you said we have to be proper.”

“Men of power can get away with murder,” he replied with a candid smile and shrug. “Public display is frowned on but you, my Liana _Kadin_ , are my consort, and what happens behind closed doors is between us.”

“Yes, my  _Sehzade_ Hamid.” He felt a jolt when she lowered her head demurely with a sweet, tempting smile. Liana looked at him through her lashes as she deliberately brushed her knees against his.

He groaned and shook his head with a grin. “The hardest part will be resisting you.” His arms crossed and uncrossed before he leaned into her. He pressed his hands against the seat behind her, careful to avoid contact though he had her enclosed.

“We will have to be very proper here,” he murmured a hair’s breadth away from the curve of her lips. “At least until the official nuptials.” His urges twitched when her rich honey colored eyes turned darker with want and the rose on her cheeks bloomed for him.

He quickly withdrew back to his seat and smirked, satisfied by the pout of protest on her face until she grabbed his jacket and captured his lips. He surrendered happily, his arms wrapped around waist as she straddled him. If his heart were to be weighed against Maat’s feather of truth now the golden scales would have tipped in his favor - for Liana made his heart soar. He kissed her back eagerly, joy singing in his veins when she whispered, “I want you.”

Hamid knew a lot about want, had heard it all before - from all sexes of various walks of life throughout his travels. Their declarations, though amusing, were hollow, driven by lust and greed and curiosity. He was all too aware of the seductive power of his title, the allure of his charming smile and foreignness. He didn't hesitate to wield it to his advantage.

But Liana. It was _her_ smile that lured _him._ He hungered for her sweetness and spice, craved it unlike any other and made little effort to hide it. Naturally, he wasn't the only one drawn to her. His initial bravado waned, replaced with something new - fear. Fear he would be rejected, the one to hear goodbye. 

That's when Hamid knew he would never stop wanting her. That the world was less vivid if she wasn't by his side.

To know she felt the same? Only whetted his appetite.

Unfortunately now was not the right time to quench it. He reluctantly tore his lips away. “I’m loathe to say it-”

“Then don’t.” His heart skipped a beat as she kissed a trail around his neck, her hands splayed on his chest. No, it had to stop now or he wouldn't be able to restrain himself. 

“…but it won’t be long before we enter the city, where a parade awaits us,” he finished, causing her to sigh and sit back. He smiled, his hand brushed her cheek as he tucked an errant lock behind her ear. “We’ll continue where we left off another time, tonight perhaps?”

She returned his smile and pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Tonight.”

* * *

Liana sat in a rose garden of the Second Courtyard of the Palace, their delicate scent bursting through the full blooms. They gave her rosewater to wash when she arrived and rose sherbet to drink from a delicate tulip shaped glass. The traces of incense and roses lingered in each hall.

It was as though they wore, ate and drank perfume in this part of the world. Liana’s senses were getting overwhelmed.

She was waiting for an audience with the _Valide Sultan_ , the Queen Mother, the most powerful woman in the Ottoman Empire. They were to meet at a Royal Coffee Ceremony to obtain permission for Liana to enter the Harem.

Harem. It brought out the goose flesh on her.

_Remember your promise. Keep an open mind. Enjoy the coffee._

She met her translator, a smooth faced man named Deniz of African origin. He stood not to far away, within earshot if needed.

Seated next to her was a elegant woman clad in layers of finest green silks of fair complexion and expressive blue eyes, Hamid’s eyes. She insisted that Liana called her  _Anne_ , mother, and thankfully spoke English in her beautiful, soothing voice. They watched the man they both loved laugh in that garden as he played with a group of children, probably the Sultan’s.

So many children. But mostly girls. Perhaps the boys were in school, Liana thought, remembering Hamid mention the extensive education he had to go through at a young age.

“That boy,”  _Anne_ clucked fondly, “is my sunshine. He’s always had a sweet temperament and mouth. What is the expression, sugar tongue?”

“Honey tongued,” Liana flicked her fan furiously to cool her cheeks. “Your son is very accomplished and gifted,  _Anne_.”

“Like his father. He was also an envoy.” Her face pinched at the mention of Hamid’s late father. It must be from grief, Liana surmised. The older woman recovered with bright smile. “Hamid is fortunate to be able to continue his father’s work. Few Princes have this privilege.”

“You must miss him terribly when he’s away.”

“I do, but this is best for him.”

She waited patiently, hoping for more from her mother-in-law, but was offered none. A pang of frustration rumbled. She came for adventure but also to discover more of  _him_. Why did it feel like she was being fed crumbs? How much did she have to pay in diamonds for a more satisfying meal?

“He is also one of the kindest men I have ever met. I am honored to be his wife.”

His mother’s eyes misted over even as they crinkled. She reached for Liana’s hand and her voice trembled, “I never thought I’d see my son married. And for love no less.”

Liana’s mask of composure almost slipped off. She bit her tongue to stop the thoughts storming inside to pour out. She paused to choose her next words wisely when she noticed  _Anne_ tensed up. She followed her gaze and saw Hamid, but unlike his usual self. His open demeanor gone, instead he stood tall and erect, his expression stoic as a group of men in billowing dark robes approached, like storm clouds chasing towards the sun.

“Who are those men,  _Anne_?”

“That’s the Grand Vizier,” she tilted her head subtly to the most well dressed albeit severe figure addressing their Prince. “And the rest are the guards.” Her lips tightened to a thin straight line as she tugged at her jeweled necklace.

Hamid spoke briefly with the men before he strode towards them, his usual smile returned even though his posture was stiff. He took his mother’s hand, who gripped it tightly.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to accompany you for the rest of the day,” he said regretfully, in English for Liana’s benefit though he looked at his mother. “His Majesty calls upon me now and there is much to discuss. I have to go.”

His mother spoke something foreign rapidly in a hushed tone before she reluctantly released his hand. He smiled reassuringly and whispered back, “Amen.”

He then turned his attention to Liana. In his hand, from a garden in full bloom, he had somehow found a rosebud. Beautiful and full of promise. A tiny smile played on her lips as she drew her fan across her cheek in reply. Her hand floated towards his to accept it. Butterflies fluttered as their fingertips grazed.

He bowed and smiled before he left with the men. The ladies watched his figure swallowed into the shadows.

* * *

Liana walked through corridor after corridor on a tour with Deniz. She had been whisked away after the coffee ceremony for a fitting of her wedding attire. Her western attire was causing quite a stir, attention Liana was not comfortable with - the curious stares and straying hands touching her. Was it like this for Hamid when he walked about in London? She had met the  _Valide Sultan_  and at least a dozen other women, all of them the Sultan’s consorts.

Which was better, to officially be one of many consorts in a Sultan’s Harem or one of many mistresses hidden away like dirty laundry by a Prince Regent?

_I could never share._

The Palace was massive, the Harem alone had a mosque, a  _Hammam_ that piqued her interest, something called a  _Kafes_ \- did they serve coffee there? And even a school for all the ages.

“What do they learn here?” she asked as she looked in a group of young ladies listening attentively to a tutor.

“An odalisque must be well learned if she hopes to rise the ranks. There are lessons for languages, performing arts such as poetry, dancing, music. This one is erotic arts -”

“ _Erotic_ arts?”

And the beauty! The courtyards already amazed her with the peacocks and gazelles and the fountains and the many pavilions. But inside was more wondrous than the next; walls of colorful mosaics and tiles, details of gold and mother-of-pearl and flowing arabesque motifs and scriptures that begged for her attention. She couldn’t wait to whip out some parchment and sketch to show Annabelle.

It was a palace of wonders. How fortunate for Hamid to have grown up here!

“How big is this place, Deniz?”

“The Imperial Harem alone has more than 400 rooms.”

Her eyes widened. “Just for the Sultan’s Harem?”

“No, for the entire royal family’s respective Harem. Every male of royal blood has a Harem, although the sultan has the largest by far.”

Ice flooded her veins. “ _Every_ male of royal blood?”

“Of course. It is custom. Even  _Sehzade_ Hamid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes:
> 
> Hamid’s story - Egyptian. Osiris & Isis, but simplified. Egypt was occupied by the Ottoman Empire.  
> Sehzade - “Imperial Prince”, meaning a prince from the male bloodline and therefore has a claim to the throne.  
> Kadin - “Consort” that has given the Sultan a child. Inaccurate usage, sorry, I’m borrowing this from Mahmud II’s consort list cos I can’t find a more suitable title.   
> Slavery in the Imperial Harem - The Harem, including the concubines, of the Ottoman Sultan consisted chiefly of purchased slaves. It is preferred for a Sultan to marry a slave as they have no familial ties to avoid a power struggle.  
> Maat’s Feather - Egyptian afterlife myth. The `heart’ of the soul is placed on a golden scale balanced against the feather of truth. If the soul’s heart was lighter than the feather the person could pass on towards bliss.  
> The Parade & Royal Coffee Ceremony -  Not making this up. Sadly didn’t serve the story, so *throws it out the window*  
> Anne - Turkish for “mother”. Not pronounced like the name, but in two syllables “An-ne” kinda like “un-nay”.


	4. Juno of Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liana confronts Prince Hamid over the secret he kept.

“Every male of royal blood has a harem, although the sultan has the largest by far.”

“ _Every_ male of royal blood?”

“Of course. It is custom. Even  _Sehzade_ Hamid.”

_____

“Is my wife there,  _Kizlar Agha?”_

“Yes,  _Sehzade_ Hamid. She awaits in your apartment.”

A sigh of relief, a spring in his step.  _Alhamdulillah_. Prince Hamid couldn’t stomach being in that room, no matter how gilded, alone. His trail of guards fumbled as they matched his quickened pace, giving him a small satisfaction. He was tired of their ever watchful eyes, stalking him silently like an Angel of Death in every corner.

The guards stationed at his apartment opened the door. He mumbled a thanks with a jaunty wave and rushed inside, his patience for decorum spent. At the foot of his bed sat Liana. She stood up as he all but bounded towards her before the doors closed.

“I’m touch-starved for you,” he sighed as he scooped her into his arms. He nuzzled her neck, relishing the soft skin and scent before he hungrily sought for her lips only to find they were cold and closed. He placed her down and stepped back, saw she stood dazed and stiff, arms firmly at her side. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer.

“Liana. We promised to talk through anything.”

“I had an enlightening day at the harem,” she finally said. “They taught me some erotic arts, among other things.”

“I like where this is going. Are you going to give me a demonstration?” His smile faded when she didn’t return it. He stepped back and saw her hands were now knuckle white and shaking.

“You told me about the Sultan’s Harem, you failed to mention yours.”

Blood drained from his face as a flush rose on hers. “I don’t have a Harem, not really. I mean, I do in a sense, but it’s complicated.” Hamid winced and tugged at the collar tightening on his throat.

“What about children? Any one of them running around yours?”

“I told you when we first met;  _I have no attachments_ ,” he said sharply. “You know the type of life I live, I refuse to subject anyone unwillingly. I do not take what’s not freely given.”

“Ah, yes, the traveling Prince. And how many beds have you wandered into, willingly?”

“Did you think my talents came out of thin air?" He jabbed back. "What about you and Sinclaire? I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Pain and frustration sparked in her eyes. “Do you think I don’t notice when you change the subject?” The room started spinning. “There’s nothing between Ernest and I, you know it. Stop deflecting!”

“I will when you stop judging me with your preconceived notions!” he flung his hands in the air. He took a deep breath and his voice softened, “Listen to me.” He held her wrists and looked straight into her eyes. “My wandering days are over. I am yours for the taking, no other. I don’t need or want a hundred consorts and concubines. Only you. And I would willingly take another bullet if that is what it takes to prove it.”

His grip on her wrists slackened. Liana took the opportunity to break free and grabbed the back of his neck possessively, seizing his lips with a rage that burned into her kiss.

He tried to take control and soften it, but it only incensed her. She bit and tugged at his lip, just enough to shock and sting him. He hissed. She bared her teeth. Good. She wanted him to hurt like her. 

Her lips curled into a snarl and claimed his throat next, her hands clawed at his caftan before tearing it off. Piece by piece she shed his clothes, overcome with a need to strip his soul bare. Her mouth demanded for more of his skin to mark as hers as she struggled in vain not to think of how many others that had taken pleasure from it.

All those women in the Harem. The looks they exchanged when Hamid’s name was uttered. Which among them? How many? Was he with someone today? Images of them with him violated her mind. Stop stop  _stopit._

Her eyes were wet when she finally locked on to his, trance-like compared to intensity of his gaze, as he waited for her next move. She sunk to her knees.

“Liana, what are you-”

_“Mine.”_

She flicked her tongue at his tip, tasting his bead. Interesting, she thought, when he took a sharp breath and twitched.

She swirled her tongue around him and took him into her warm, inviting mouth, sucking him gently. He moaned, and she felt a surge of something. Satisfaction? Excitement? Power? No wonder he loved to pleasure her.

She took him deeper, in measured, undulating movements, loving how he was becoming undone from her touch. His hands in her hair, his breathing hard, his movements now jerky as she turned the tables on him; her tongue was now his instrument of torture.

He pulled her roughly to her feet, driven mad with lust. His hands reached to hitch up her dress. “I must have you.”

She slapped them away. “No.”

_“No?”_

“I am not of your harem.” She walked out, the click of the door like a knife plunged into his heart.

_______

**Historical Footnotes:**

  * _**Kizlar Agha**_  - Chief Black Eunuch. Liana’s translator, Deniz is also a eunuch. I’m sorry I don’t have the strength to dig into another can of worms.
  * _**Sehzade**_ \- “Imperial Prince”, meaning a prince from the male bloodline and therefore has a claim to the throne.
  * _**Alhamdulillah**_  - Thank God.




	5. Juno of Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding day arrives

The English Ottoman Princess Bride sat on display. Red velvet, rich and lustrous, hugged Liana’s figure as trailing vines of gold and silver crept up her curves. Rubies on her head, on her throat, glittered underneath a red veil. A reddish orange hue flowered upon her palms and glowed on her fingertips, a product of the previous evening, the Henna Night.

The red, her translator whispered, was to symbolise the blood of a virgin bride. It also symbolises the bride’s new stage in life; girl to woman, a daughter to a wife.  
Her mother in law had placed the henna in her hand, and then a gold coin. A symbol, a pledge of their acceptance, their care and for luck. 

Liana hadn’t seen Hamid in days. They were kept separate, and when they did meet it was in public or fleeting and always terribly polite. As though they were strangers instead of husband and wife. 

There was a knock on the door of her private apartment later on the Henna Night. Liana sat up uncomfortably, careful to not shift about too much in fear the wet smelly paste of mashed leaves on her hands would stain the apricot and gold settee. 

Her only company were the ghostly images of Hamid with another, the face ever shifting from one beauty to the next. The only sound the poetic words he once whispered in her ear, like a mockery.

From outside her window, al-Zuhara watched.

An odalisque entered, curtsied, and announced something foreign. Liana only recognised one word as another woman entered; Hamid’s mother’s name:

“Čehrāzād”

The day of the nuptials, the main event. They were seated on the plush carpeted floor of the Palace Mosque. On one side, the men, on another behind a screen, the women.

She was told it was a serene place of eggshell and blue but she could only see the red from her veil.

The  _imam_ , in the presence of witnesses, recited the required Quranic verses and quotes from  _hadiths_ following a sermon. An appointed judge acted as her  _wali_ , a guardian, to ensure her rights were upheld.

The  _imam_ asked for her consent, she nodded. The  _imam_ then asked her Prince for his, and he agreed, albeit with a longer recitation. They were declared legally wed in the eyes of his God. 

There was a large banquet that night. She imagined her Prince carried about smoothly as he flashed a charming smile to the guests. Behind the calm mask he wore, was he like her, frantic beneath the surface, like a duck?

She was sent to a reception at the Harem, exclusively for the womenfolk, where her new mother greeted her with open arms. There was singing and dancing. She moved to the rhythm dutifully but felt nothing.

Once the festivities were over, the  _Kizlar Agha_  escorted her back to Hamid’s apartment while he distributed gold to the guests. He came in later to pray. Liana observed him quietly on the bed as he went through the postures until he reached the final one. The doors closed but he remained seated on the ground. He was supposed to come to her to lift the veil from her face, to break his ablution by touching her. Instead he sat there with his head hung low, his silence unusual and eerie.

Behind her red, hazy vision, a hundred questions whirled in her mind, unanswered. She thought she knew him - her sweet, patient and kind prince. She fell for his passion for life and all its beauty, his sense of wonderment and adventure. It had been enough then.

Now Liana realised how little she actually knew of him. 

Have courage. Let go of your pride and anger. Go to him. 

She rose up and pushed through the veil, each step felt like a thousand as she crossed the distance between them. She stood in front of him and descended. Legs folded under, mirroring his stance, close but not touching.

He broke the silence. “I’m surprised you said yes.” His voice so lifeless her heart dropped. 

“I could say the same for you.” She sighed and looked at him. “Why aren’t you taking this veil off me?”

“I’m afraid,” he confessed, eyes faced down. “Of how you will look at me when I do.” 

“You would sooner take a bullet than let me see you?” she mused. He remained motionless. “You told me once, if you were ever lucky enough to find love, you would not turn away, no matter what cost. I confess, I thought you being dramatic.”

He laughed morbidly, a chill ran to her bones.

“I had an interesting chat with your mother during the Henna Night. She’s lovely, I can see where your kindness and love for storytelling comes from.”

“She is.”

“She told me her story.” Her brows furrowed in concentration as she recalled “Čehrāzād”’s tale:

“Once upon a time, in a tiny house in a tiny island, lived a little girl with eyes of blue and complexion fair. She was the prettiest and the wittiest among her many sisters.

“One day, her parents took her to the market and they sold her, like cattle, for her pretty face fetched a pretty price. She was herded onto a ship, and sailed away from her tiny island into a great kingdom.

“Once more, she was sold like cattle in the marketplace. This time, she was put with the herd in the grandest palace on one of the highest points close to sea.

“She became an odalisque, a chambermaid. When she wasn’t attending to her duties, she went to school and was taught their ways. 

“For her clever wit, she became a storyteller. She grew older and fairer and soon her pretty face caught the eye of the Queen. Once again she had to pay a price. She was made to lie with another, a Prince. He was handsome and gifted, but so restless at night. 

“To while away the hours, she would tell him a story. He enjoyed her stories so much he asked for her the next night, and the next, until a thousand nights passed after the first.

“He grew to love her, and she him. She became his favorite yet he never married her, never freed her, and kept his other women. It was custom. She bore his children, one of them a handsome and gifted boy with her pretty eyes of blue.”

Her fingers played with an invisible knot even as she finished. Sands of time trickled as she waited for him to speak. Hamid exhaled, long and shaky, but otherwise unmoved. Dismayed but undeterred, she continued.

“ _Anne_ told me, even the powerful  _Valide Sultans_  started out as slaves. Marrying a free woman, a woman outside of the court no less, is highly unusual. Only for political alliances, not love. Our marriage is an exception, not the rule, and breaking customs is not looked upon favorably.”

Her hands clenched and unclenched. They itched to reach for him but she did not. It was not her place to. This was his world and she was going to respect it.

“I saw the pain and conflict in her eyes when she spoke of your father. But I also saw her love and pride for you, she doesn’t regret you at all.”

Her nails dug crescents into her skin as her eyes burned wet trails. Curse this stupid red veil! She wished she could tear it off herself and look at him. 

“I jumped to conclusions, made assumptions. I forgot your words - a Harem is a place for  _all_ the women, including your mother.  _Anne_ , she told me about yours. It’s actually your father’s. You took them in so they wouldn’t be sent to some horrible place. The slaves are all freed, and you have employed those who choose to stay…and I am your only consort.”

Her throat felt heavy as she swallowed a breath. “She said to ask you about the  _Kafes_. That it was important, but not her story to tell.

_“Hamid, please look at me.”_

His hands reached out and lifted the veil. She blinked, her vision clearing as the red faded away into the blue of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No, please. Forgive me. I hid myself behind a wall for so long.” He inhaled a shallow breath as his thumb, shockingly cold, wiped her face.

“Would you like to hear my story?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Footnotes:  
> Anne - Mother.   
> Ottoman wedding ceremony in three parts: The Henna Night (for the bride), the nuptials or solemnization (“niqah”) and finally a feast that lasts for days.   
> Slavery in the Imperial Harem: The Harem, including the concubines, of the Ottoman Sultan consisted chiefly of purchased slaves. It is preferred for a Sultan to marry a slave as they have no familial ties to avoid a power struggle.


	6. Venus As A Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamid's childhood story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I switched tense in this chapter because of requests from Tumblr readers for a smutty end. This was initially rated PG-13.

“Once upon a time, there was a Little Prince of a great kingdom. He had loving parents, five sisters and many friends in his father’s harem. His father wasn’t the king, merely a prince like himself. His father was gifted and clever, and had to go on adventures to far off lands. Sometimes the Little Prince would join his adventures. That was when he was happiest.

“Other times, he resided and went to school at the grandest palace on one of the highest points close to the sea. He learned many things, but he had a love for stargazing, like his father, and his father before him.

“His cousin was the Sultan. He watched his cousin, who was also a learned man, try to bring change into the great kingdom.

“The Little Prince had no interest in becoming sultan, for there was a creature of fire and smoke that followed every one of them. An Ifrit, the harbinger of death, biding for its time to claim another sultan.

“This time, Ifrit whispered into the ears of those that didn’t like change. Together they revolted.

“A new Sultan rose, long live the Sultan.

“The Little Prince was not so little anymore, though not yet a man. The new Sultan tore and scattered his family apart. So the new Sultan would feel safe, and sleep better at night though he continued to switch chambers every night in fear. They kept the Prince in a solitary golden cage, just like the ones where other princes were kept. His sisters made pawns, married off for alliances to buy allegiance for the Sultan, confined in different cages. His mother and the harem locked in the Palace of Tears.

“The princes were guarded by demons with silk cords to keep their hands clean. The demons couldn’t hear the princes cry or scream, couldn’t speak of the evil they witnessed or committed. They claimed the Prince’s father.

“The Prince learned to sleep with one eye open and a dagger under his pillow.

“The Prince did what he could to survive. At first he read books. Then played music. Turned to God and the devil. Turned to women. He was only allowed barren women, they couldn’t risk having more little princes. It wasn’t love, just a means to numb the pain.

“One year later, an army rose, to siege the palace and rescue the princes and kill the sultan.

“Ifrit whispered again. The Sultan ordered the death of all the princes, so he would be the only one left, unopposed.

“A mother’s love saved the Prince. Not his own, for his mother was trapped in the Palace of Tears when his father died. A mother of another. She came to them, freed them and told them to hide from the demons searching for them. Their silk cords were itching for the princes’ neck but now they also came with swords.

“Not all of them survived the onslaught.

“From the ashes, another Sultan rose, long live the Sultan.

“The Prince pledged fealty to his new Sultan and his mother and the others released from the Palace of Tears. But in exchange, like his father, the Prince must leave his homeland to do the Sultan’s bidding. He was allowed to come back on occasion, but never for long, and when he did, it must be under the Sultan’s watchful eye.

“The Prince traveled far, from city to city, crossing oceans and mountains. A life of adventure, but always alone and his heart so restless. Never staying for too long until one day -”

Prince Hamid stops abruptly.

Liana embraces him, holding him tight. Waiting patiently for the tremors to subside, for his breath to come out even. Returning his desperate kisses with ardor, until she feels his warmth returning, breathing back life into his ghostly hue. She kisses the tip of his nose, and he laughs, the twinkle returning to his eyes.

“Until one day,” he presses his forehead against hers, twirling a lock of her hair with a finger, “the handsome prince almost ran over a maiden fair. He was most apologetic and even offered his horse’s head.”

“Driver, not horse.” She bites back the laugh bubbling inside. She cups his cheek and finds his beard no longer strange. In fact, he is more dashing than ever. He takes her hand and places a delicate kiss on her wrist, his beard grazes on her skin brings a delightful squirm that wriggles down to her core.

He was right. She would need time, and an open mind, to grow accustomed. “What became of this handsome prince and his maiden fair?”

“They celebrated their wedding night of course,” he murmurs, as they smiled into a kiss.

One kiss leads to another, and another.

They rise to slowly unwrap each other, layer upon layer discarded on the floor, with their doubts and fears. Strange how not so long ago she fought the urge to cover herself. Now she restrains from undressing too fast. Their eyes sweeps each other’s frame. The smile on his face makes her blush, the sight of him never fails to excite her.

Her hand reaches for the back of his neck to bring him closer. She smiles as his tongue traces her lips.

His hands roam to explore every curve with soft feather-light touches that hardens them both. He has her heart in his hand. Her eyes flutter as his touch gets rougher, fingers pinching and rolling as she sweetly moans for more against his mouth. Arms around his neck, teeth gently nibbling at his ear in between loving whispers, her knees turning weaker until she can barely stand.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

Legs encircles his waist, her heat pressing against him as he lifts her, his moon and stars, to lie on a cloud of cool soft sheets. His love, his life, his  _Qiyamat_ \- his end of days and resurrection.

She is honey and cinnamon spice, he can never get enough of. A flash of teeth, a hungry glint in his eyes. His mouth wanders to taste every inch of her, nipping, sucking, savoring her every delicious gasp until finally he reaches her arousal.

He locks eyes with her. She bites her lip, silently pleading, breathlessly waiting. A smile spreads on his face. Her fingers wind tight into the sheets as his runs down her sides, a trail of goose flesh leading to her thighs.

The rose between her legs blooms for him.

He pins her down before his tongue sears the petals of her skin. Every teasing flick and stroke stokes the fire smoldering in her core. His beard gently tickling her thighs adds to her pleasure. Her hands curls into his hair, her back arches, writhing uncontrollably as she burns into a blinding white light.

Her racing heart slows down as she tells herself to breathe. She sits up and sighs into his arms that eagerly welcome her.

“Mine?”

He places her finger tips on his neck.

“Yours.” Bliss. “Always.”

Her kisses fall like rain, cool on his warm skin. Drops trailing lower and lower, until he drowns in her mouth. Passion licks its flames with lashings wet and hot upon him. He shudders in her heat, jerks to her lilting rhythm as her nails dances on his skin.

She picks up the tempo, his pulse follows suit. The pleasure building intensifies. No, too soon, he grits his teeth and pulls away. She chuckles knowingly before he roughly sits her down on his lap, his length straining against her as he catches his breath. A wicked smile plays on his lips as his hand slides up her back, tangles into her hair and tugs. Her neck arches with a strangled cry. Pain and pleasure made more arousing as he ravishes her throat, her collarbone, her breasts.

A hand traces a pattern up her thighs. She jolts, gasping when his fingers teases her sex. She leans in, lips begging, aching for more. He dives in, fingers cresting in waves, until they are both soaked from her waters and she shivers uncontrollably, desperate for air and him.

“I want all of you.”

“I’m at your command.”

She sinks herself into him in a maddening, long-drawn pace, slowly swallowing him into delirium. He is lost; in her velvet, in his rapture. There is no poetry on his tongue, only a growl rising from his throat as she rocks against him. He grabs her hips, raising and lowering her like a man possessed. She runs hers nails down his back, her teeth on his shoulder. He tenses as her walls clenches, her grip on him growing ever tighter until he is completely ensnared in her coil.

He pushes her down. His weight presses on her, his warm breath caresses her skin. Flickering flames feasts on their flesh with his every wild thrust. Throw decorum into the fire- let it burn to ashes and be swept away by their dance of desire.

She loves his hard inside her soft, loves the raw emotions and sensations pounding inside her. Harder, closer, deeper. It’s not enough, never enough. More. Nails digging into skin. Slipping, sliding, outside in. Their hearts beats as erratic as his thrusts and her hips meet. The heat rising and rising. The fire roars in her ears, scorches her nerve endings, burns her throat as she screams his name and God’s. He releases with one final thrust, twitching and groaning, as white hot spurts consume her one last time.

He presses a soft kiss on her brow before he crashes by her side. She shifts to nuzzle the crook of his neck, breathing him in as his fingers curl in her hair. A wave of peaceful silence blankets them, save for their ragged breaths and beating hearts slowly ebbing to a calm.

He sleeps well, for the first time in a long time, in the grandest palace on one of the highest points close to the sea.

As the night draws to an end, Al-Zuhara and the stars fade and whisper goodbye. There is no more use for words, nothing left unsaid.

___________________

Dedicated with love to the Hamid readers that always took the time comment and reblog. Your kindness fueled this passion project  ~~and this chapter’s smut and I will now go into hiding.~~

Thanks to all the betas and test readers on Tumblr: lizzybeth1986, stupid-things-i-like2do, ritachacha, hellospunkiebrewster, brightpinkpeppercorn, littlecrookedheart, ladynonsense and pixelburied.

___________________

**Historical footnotes:**

**The grandest palace**  - Topkapi

**The Sultans**  in order of appearance:

  * **Selim III**  - reform-minded Sultan from 1789 to 1807. The Janissaries eventually deposed and imprisoned him, and placed his cousin, Mustafa IV, on the throne. Selim was assassinated by sword, his body flung on the courtyard for all to see, on the night Mustafa ordered death to all the heirs, before his loyalists could reinstate him. 
  * **Mustafa IV**  - the Sultan from 1807 to 1808, cousin of Selim III, half-brother of Mahmud II. The failure of his short reign prevented the efforts to undo the reforms, which continued under Mahmud.
  * **Mahmud II**  - the Sultan from 1808 to 1839. An accomplished musician, in some stories, it is said his mother hid him from the assassins that claimed Selim. His reign is recognized for the extensive administrative, military, and fiscal reforms he instituted. The reforms he instituted would eventually lead to the birth of the modern Turkish Republic. A series of decrees were promulgated that initially limited the slavery of white persons, and subsequently that of all races and religions, beginning in 1830, with Sultan Mahmud II.
  * **Palace of Tears**  - When a sultan died, his entire harem was discarded into the infamous  _Eski Saray_  (The Old Palace) to make way for the new sultan’s harem. No man ever entered the building, nor were there many visitors. The women spent the rest of their days here, a sad end to an imprisoned life.
  * **The Golden Cage & Demons with Silk Cords** - the  _Kafes_ , an apartment to confine the heirs. The guards were deaf and mute. It’s forbidden to spill royal blood, so they were strangled with silk cords.
  * **Qiyamat**  - the End of Days, Judgement Day. All souls are resurrected.
  * **Ifrit**  - In Islamic culture, they are usually a powerful type of jinn or identified with death-spirits. 



__________________

**_Why Hamid Is Caged_ **

(infor source Wikipedia -  Ottoman Dynasty)

The Ottoman throne was inherited by the eldest male family member — not necessarily son — of the Sultan, regardless of how many eligible family members were alive.  **Agnatic seniority**. A deceased sultan was rarely succeeded by his own son, but usually by an uncle or brother.

Hamid, being an  _Imperial_ Prince (male heir) has a stronger claim to the throne than he lets on. It is unlikely there are 30 other heirs ahead of him. Hence I wrote in his arrangement with Sultan Mahmud II.  ~~It would have been easier if he was from the female line.~~


End file.
